===========================================================================
 BBS: The Matrix BBS
Date: 03-29-98 (08:01)             Number: 195
From: JACK SARGEANT                Refer#: NONE
  To: ALL                           Recvd: NO
Subj: 8                     2/4      Conf: (195) UFO
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>>> Continued from previous message
As the hypnosis session drew to a close, I pondered the new
information that had been unearthed.  The memories I had consciously
recalled prior to the regression had not altered under the hypnotic
trance, and the additional data had fit concisely into a cohesive
whole.  The proof of this encounter was based not only on anecdotal
memories, but was substantiated by physical evidence:  the pain in my
hands and body, the pulled threads in the bedsheets, and the stain on
my nightshirt.
As I contemplated the weight of the physical evidence, I recalled
one other piece of substantiating information that had lain forgotten
in my mind:  the dog had been ill for several days following the
encounter.  She had eaten nothing unusual at home that could account
for her ailing, yet she had been lethargic and sick at her stomach.
The images I had seen during the regression, coupled with her
illness, strongly suggested she had been an accidental tourist during
this abduction.  I was very disturbed by this possibility--taking
innocent pets by design or by accident outraged me.  With a fiendish
delight, I hoped she had torn the aliens' ship apart and spilled
every garbage can they had on board.
On the return trip home, my husband, Jack, Mary, and I talked
excitedly about the abduction phenomenon.  We all realized what an
opportunity lay before us--particularly if my abductions were to
remain on a conscious level.  Jack and Mary owned a videocamera, and
could attempt to catch an abduction on film.  My husband and I, while
not owning a camera ourselves, could easily borrow my brother's.
With eager anticipation, we planned the method by which at least one
of us might obtain proof on camera.  Full of optimism, we parted that
day--certain that soon we would obtain incontrovertible proof of the
reality of the aliens--proof that could be shared with others.
Several days passed, and we checked regularly with Jack and Mary to
see if anything had occurred.  My brother's camera was on loan to
his older daughter, but he assured us we could borrow it as soon as
she returned it.  In the meantime, the evidence from Jack and Mary's
camera was slow in arriving.  We shared their laughter as they
described the boredom of watching hours of film containing nothing
but themselves sleeping.
A week passed by in relative calm, and I became lulled by the
sameness of the daily routine.  The night hours remained a time of
unrest for me; a dark mystery housing the potential of that altered
reality I had come to dread.  Insomnia had become my permanent
bed-partner.
The last weekend in November passed without further incident, and my
husband and I made plans to borrow my brother's camera for the
following weekend.  I felt strengthened by my resolve to take
positive action against the unseen foe--and also felt a new sense of
control over my reactions to the phenomenon.  It was a heady
combination-- and too good to last.
Monday, the 30th, was one of those days where you fervently wish
you'd stayed in bed.  Nothing went right at my job, and by workday's
end, I was tired and disgruntled.  After a quiet supper, my husband
began flipping channels on the television with the remote control.
Irritated, I decided I would go to bed, to escape the strangled
sounds of the changing channels.  My husband joined me sometime
later, and he easily fell asleep.  I dozed fitfully on and off,
watching the digital clock as the hours leisurely strolled by, and
the first seconds of December 1 were heralded.
At 1:00 A.M., I was completely awake and alert.  Suddenly, with no
warning, a wave of lethargy overcame me, and my eyes closed--as if
an unseen force had sapped every atom of energy I possessed.  My
world spiraled inward as my sense of hearing disappeared, and I lost
contact with my husband and the dog.  Panicked and paralyzed, I
struggled against the invisible bonds that held me tightly in
check--knowing it was futile, but determined to try.
I will never know what that alien presence felt that night--if it
felt at all--as it disdainfully lifted the covers off my will-less
body, lying there like a sacrifice upon an unconsecrated altar.
Prolonging a soul-deep agony, the creature removed each blanket,
one-by-one.  And I counted them, one-by-one, praying the alien
life-form would not reach the last one . . . praying that
someone--something---would intervene before that creature and I had
no barrier between us.
My prayer lay fallow on the bedroom floor, as I arose from the bed,
devoid of will--a marionette played by a master puppeteer.  With my
emotions clamoring inside, I was relieved when my consciousness
finally faded to black.
Struggling back to consciousness, my first clear view encompassed
the gray back of an alien, gliding purposefully a few steps before
me.  The long-fingered hand of another alien rested lightly upon my
right shoulder, and I could barely discern with my peripheral vision
the shape of its owner, walking slightly behind me to the right.  We
were moving through a curved hallway, the walls and floor a
ubiquitous gray color.  Two arched doorways stood before us.  As we
neared the first door to the left, the alien in front of me entered.
I paused, unsure of my destination. With an overwhelming concern, I
thought, "But I don't know where I'm supposed to go.  Which door am I
supposed to enter?"  Within my head, the answer came, "Continue to
the second door."  I moved forward again, relieved to have an answer.
 Somehow I had been told the first door led into the pharmacy area;
the second into the examination room.
My thoughts in a tumult, and powerless to object, I stepped into the
second room.  Haziness engulfed my senses as I passed the threshold,
and I blacked out.  I awoke to find myself prone on a table--another
sacrificial altar-- and facing  a doorway.  In mounting horror, I
stared, wide-eyed, as one of the gray's entered the room,
approaching the table where I lay unable to move.  The nonhuman
creature held an object in its hand, and as it neared my feet, my
fears overwhelmed me. Closing my eyes, I mentally drifted away.
After an unknown passage of time, I regained consciousness.  To my
surprise, I was now in a large circular room with two tiers.  In the
center of the room was a large, raised platform that contained a
tube- or cage-like structure, surrounded by a metal railing, with
ramps leading down either side to the floor below.  There were two
doors on the left-hand wall below the platform.
Dazedly coming to my senses, I realized I was standing in this
cage-like structure.  Frantic, I ran around the inside perimeter,
looking vainly for an exit.  The metallic structure appeared to have
openings at regular intervals, but some strange force prevented my
exiting the holding cage.  As I desperately sought a way out of the
tube, I saw innumerable aliens coming and going through the doors
below.  I slowed my frantic run to a steady pace, and noticed several
aliens standing below the platform, watching my movements.  No
emotion flickered across their impassive faces; no pity registered
in their staring, black, endless eyes.
Feeling like a caged animal in a zoo, I came to a dead halt within
the confining tube.  Exhausted emotionally and physically, I angrily
stomped toward one of the openings--and easily passed through it.  My
performance had come to an end, as far as I was concerned.  I would
not "jump through the hoop" for these inhuman creatures anymore.  I
stepped onto the platform, toward the railing, and watched in
consternation as the aliens began departing the room.
The sense of abandonment I felt struck like a physical blow.
Forlorn and bereft, I raced toward the ramp leading down to the
doors, intent on catching one of the entities.  I had to let them
know I was human--not one of them- -and they couldn't just leave me
there.
As my foot touched the ramp, I was accosted by my "Oriental" alien.
Physically barring my entry onto the ramp, he reached toward me with
his alien hands.  I mentally cried out to him, "Please don't forget
to take me home!", and he hugged me.  Engulfed in that hug that broke
the language barrier and spanned the gap between two distinct life-
forms, I was comforted in a manner as ancient as the world.  With a
child's wonderment, I watched in awe as he transformed before my
--- FMail 1.22
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